“Gasp!”

Let was lying upright in bed.

Where was she? Where was this place?

Nothing around her was familiar. She was in a vast room with beautiful furniture and patterned wallpaper. There was also a soft, white bed.

It looked exactly as Ben’s men had described Baron Barodon’s estate when they returned from their annual delivery.

Her mind went blank.

‘I thought I’d been rescued. Was it only a dream?’

Had she hit her head and dreamed it all after losing consciousness in the crate?

Nothing made sense.

The unfamiliar voice, the warmth of that touch, the promise that she was safe…

Had she imagined it all?

Knock, knock.

“……!”

The knock on the door sent Let tumbling out of bed and onto the floor in terror.

Who could it be? Could it be Baron Barodon?

Her thoughts immediately turned to the worst possible conclusion. It was only natural. Nothing good had ever happened to her. She had spent her whole life expecting the worst and almost always being proved right.

‘So it really was only a dream.’

‘There was never anyone who would save me.’

Tears welled in Let’s large eyes.

She had to hide. She had to find somewhere—anywhere—to hide.

Crash!

A sharp, earsplitting sound rang through the room. As she scrambled away on all fours, she must have collided with the table. Shards of glass from a broken object scattered across the floor in front of her.

“Huh? I’m coming in!”

The commotion hastened the arrival of the uninvited visitor.

“……!”

Let seized one of the glass shards before her with her bare hand.

The jagged glass dug into her palm.

Pain came second. Survival came first.

“Ah!”

The person who entered had blue hair.

Was it a man? Or a woman?

Let could not tell. Their hair was short, and they wore an ornament adorned with trailing feathers. A basket hung from one hand.

‘Was there anyone with hair that color at Baron Barodon’s estate?’

The blue-haired person flinched in alarm and took a step forward.

“Why are you holding something so dangerous? You’re bleeding!”

“Don’t come any closer!”

Let tightened her grip on the shard of glass.

Even to her own eyes, her hand was trembling so violently that she must have looked utterly pathetic.

“Don’t…… come any closer.”

Tears welled in her eyes again, blurring her vision. Even so, Let forced herself to focus and warily watched the intruder.

“I won’t.”

With the basket looped over one wrist, the blue-haired person raised both hands high in the air.

“Please calm down, all right?”

As though trying to reassure her, they practically hopped several steps backward.

“Wh-Where…… where am I? Is this…… Baron Barodon’s estate?”

“Barodon?”

The person, whose arms were still raised, tilted their head.

“Hmm, I’m sorry. This is my first time in the capital, so I don’t know who that is.”

Was that really true?

Let remained suspicious, but somehow, the person did not appear to be lying.

As though to show that they meant no harm, the blue-haired person smiled brightly.

“This is the Winfried ducal estate. The Winfried ducal estate. I believe it’s rather famous.”

“Winfried……”

Let carefully rolled the name around in her mouth.

She had definitely heard it before.

But where?

“Look over there.”

The blue-haired person pointed toward one side of the room.

A large banner bearing an emblem hung there.

“Do you see the blue bird? That is a bird emblem used exclusively by House Winfried.”

Only then did the blue bird enter Let’s field of vision.

It was so enormous that she wondered how she had failed to notice it until now.

“Ah.”

Her eyes were fixed on the bird.

Although she had only seen it from afar, she was fairly certain that Baron Barodon’s carriage was adorned with the image of a strange, pig-like creature.

It had not been a bird.

‘So I was wrong.’

‘This really isn’t Baron Barodon’s estate.’

‘I survived…….’

The promise she had heard just before losing consciousness — that she would be saved — had not been a dream.

The moment she realized this, all her strength left her. The shard slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor as she sank to her knees.

“May I come closer now?”

The blue-haired person asked cautiously. Let remained seated, dazed. She felt bad for not responding, but she didn’t have the strength to even nod.

Taking her silence as a sign that she had calmed down, the person approached carefully and swiftly kicked the bloodstained shard under the bed.

“Hello.”

“Ah……”

Let slowly blinked at the greeting, then bowed her head.

She nearly pitched forward, but the blue-haired person caught her.

“Oh, dear. Let’s sit on the sofa first.”

Let barely managed to nod.

Leaning on someone for support, she struggled to her feet and sat down on the sofa, taking a moment to catch her breath.

Perhaps it was the relief of knowing she had survived, but her eyes kept slipping closed. She rubbed them vigorously.

“Oh, please don’t do that!”

The person, who had been searching through the basket, hurried over and stopped her.

“You’ll reopen your wounds.”

‘Wounds?’

It was only then that Let realized what a state she was in.

There was a large gash on her palm and blood covered her arms, body and face. She also had small burns where her skin had been singed by sparks.

“First, let me clean off the blood and change your bandages. That’s actually why I came here.”

“Bandages……?”

Let looked her over again.

It was only then that she began to notice the bandages wrapped around her arms and legs, and the pieces of white cloth covering areas where there were no bandages.

“Fortunately, the wound isn’t deep. It won’t require stitches.”

As Let stared blankly at the bandages covering her body, fascinated by the sight, the blue-haired woman examined her palm.

“All done.”

‘Huh?’

Let looked down at her hand. Medicine had been carefully applied to the wound, and a fresh bandage was wrapped securely around it.

‘Is she a doctor?’

Let tilted her head.

There had been a doctor in the slums too, though he was a quack who stole expired medicine and sold it at several times its original price.

“Now, miss, I need to change the bandages on your back, so please excuse me.”

“My…… back?”

‘She’s going to do it herself?’

There were bandages wrapped around her arms, legs and abdomen.

This meant that she would have to take off her top.

Still seated, she began inching away.

“Why are you running away? Ah!”

The woman raised her thumb confidently.

“I’m a woman.”

“……?”

“If you don’t believe me, shall I take off my shirt too?”

“No!”

She looked ready to strip off her tunic at any moment, so Let shook her head with all her strength.

“Y-Your hair was so short that I didn’t realize.”

“Ah.”

The woman ran a hand through her short blue hair and laughed cheerfully.

“I’m a knight. Whenever I fought on the battlefield, my enemies kept grabbing me by the hair, so I simply cut it all off! Better to lose my hair than my head, wouldn’t you agree?”

Startled by the gruesome remark, Let nodded without thinking.

“I meant to tidy it up afterward, but I’d hacked it off so unevenly with my sword that there was no salvaging it. In the end, I shaved it all off!”

“It’s grown quite a bit since then, you know!”

The knight laughed heartily and gave her another enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“Being bald made wearing a helmet much easier, but standing beneath the sun made me feel as though my head were roasting. I think I’ll let it grow out a little this time.”

“I-I see.”

Let felt exhausted for an entirely different reason than before. Blinking rapidly, she nodded along as diligently as she could.

The knight burst into laughter at the sight of her.

“Ha ha! You looked just like a rabbit just now, miss!”

‘Miss.’

The way the knight had addressed her had been bothering Let for some time.

As he insisted that her bandages needed changing and began to apply medicine to her wounds, she asked cautiously,

“Um, why was I brought here……? And why have you been calling me ‘miss’?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not someone worthy of being addressed that way by an extraordinary person like you.”

“I was just about to explain, but His Grace has arrived at the perfect time.”

‘His Grace.’

Let seized upon the unfamiliar title and carefully rolled it around in her mouth.

“I think it would be best for you to hear the circumstances from His Grace himself.”

“All right.”

Let nodded as she listened.

After watching her for a moment, the knight added,

“Do you truly not remember? Even if you don’t remember me, surely you remember His Grace? After all, he’s the man who brought you here.”

‘The person who held me?’

Could he be the one who had taken her out of the crate?

“The man with black hair……”

“That’s right! His Grace has black hair and red eyes! Do you remember him?”

Let quietly shook her head.

She could not remember the color of his eyes. All she recalled was his black hair—and how desperately she had clung to him.

Still, now that the last fragments of her memory aligned with reality, she felt slightly reassured.

Yet she could not let down her guard completely. Too many questions remained unanswered.

Why had she been brought here? And why did the knight keep addressing her as “miss”?

‘I also want to know why he suddenly promised to protect me.’

And whether she could trust that promise.

‘They don’t seem like bad people, but…….’

She could not trust them completely.

How many wicked people in the slums had seemed kind and gentle?

Some people who had trusted such individuals had been robbed of all their possessions and left to starve in the streets. Others had simply disappeared.

“All done!”

After moving this way and that at the knight’s instruction and even changing her clothes, Let soon looked considerably tidier.

She fidgeted with her fingers against the soft fabric, unlike anything she had ever worn before.

Everything felt unfamiliar.

“Now then, miss, what would you like to do? You may meet His Grace immediately, but if you’re tired, you can rest a little longer first.”

Let shook her head.

“I want to go now.”

“Excellent! Shall we go, then, miss?”

Let followed the knight uncertainly toward the door. Gathering her courage, she spoke.

“Um, excuse me, Sir Knight. Could you call me something other than ‘miss’……?”

The knight paused while opening the door, then nodded as though she had just thought of something wonderful.

“In that case, why don’t we introduce ourselves? It isn’t as though we’ll only be together for a day or two! We’ll feel more comfortable if we at least know each other’s names.”

With that, the knight held out her hand.

“I’m Delphia. Delphia Baraton, the eldest daughter of Viscount Baraton.”

‘Name.’

The word made Let’s throat tighten once more.

Her name was Let.

Let, meaning a filthy little rat.